Novel & Cerita Priestes Of The Moon

They learned to balance their responsibilities to their packs with their own desires and aspirations, always finding a way to support and uplift each other. One particular challenge they faced was the return of the Moon Goddess's prophecies. The Moon Goddess had foretold of a great conflict that would test the supernatural world's foundations and threaten to plunge it into chaos. Andrea, as the Moon Goddess Descendant, felt the weight of this prophecy on her shoulders. With Jax by her side, they worked tirelessly to decipher the meaning behind the prophecies and find a way to prevent the impending catastrophe. They consulted with elders, sought guidance from ancient texts, and delved deep in

Behind her, her attendants trailed — whispering blessings that sounded more like spells. When she reached the altar, she tilted her head slightly, lips curving. “You look almost at peace,” she said softly, only for me to hear. “I’m not,” I replied. Her smile didn’t falter. “Then pretend. For them.” The Moon Priestess lifted her staff. “By the light of the Moon, we witness the binding of Alpha Killian of Howlborne and Lilith of the Northern House, in unity and purpose. May this bond restore the balance and calm the storm.”

It never was. “Tonight,” the priest said, his voice carrying easily through the hall, “we stand beneath the gaze of the Moon Goddess.” The Moon Goddess did not choose lightly. What she gave was not meant to be undone, not without consequence. Everyone in the room understood that, even if no one spoke of it aloud. No one moved, no one spoke. Even everyone's breathing seemed quieter. “She sees what we do not,” he continued. “She binds what cannot be broken. She chooses what must be.”

A wide smirk on her lips as she rests her hand on her hips lazily. “Moon Goddess” Kane grits out. “Actually, it is Selene,” she said, still smirking. “Nobody cares about your name, bitch,” he said. Selene laughs softly. “When you said that I am not your creator, who is?” she asked, looking him in the eyes. Everyone waited for his reply. He made them all believe that she was not their creator, so who was their creator? “It doesn’t matter who is our creator, but we refuse to be controlled by women!” he yelled. All his men cheer, backing him up.

But my father was not the Moon Goddess. She had heard me before. I had felt it, on the full moon, in the hush of the chapel. Her presence settling over me, warm and steady. She had wanted nothing from me but what I freely gave. She would not abandon me now. The Crescent Sisters were the Goddess's most devoted servants. They swore to keep themselves for Her, all their lives. They lived with curses and with death, and they used the purest souls to guide the dead into the Goddess's kingdom, and the whole world knew it. Which was why the whole world left them alone. Every creature, human or werewolf or vampire, agreed never to touch them.

The crowd quieted and six people in hooded white robes and candles came to stand around us, priests. Odeia handed him a silver knife, the handle wrapped in dark leather. Mathias took my hand and led me into the water that shimmered sliver from the light of the moon until we were submerged to my waist. The full moon was almost at its peak. Chanting began from the hooded priests, a language I did not recognize. Until I Odeia’s voice rose above the others calling out to the night sky, lifting her arms high towards the moon.

They glowed faintly in the moonlight. “She found a way,” the Priestess said softly. “But not one you would wish for.” Before we could ask more, the ground trembled. A low, thunderous sound rolled through the hall. The Priestess stiffened. “It’s begun.” “What’s begun?” I asked. “The alignment,” she whispered. “The moons are moving toward unity. The Gate is waking faster than I thought.” Edward drew his weapon instinctively. “Then we stop it.” The Priestess shook her head. “You cannot stop the moons. But perhaps…” She looked at me again, her expression unreadable. “Perhaps you can learn to command what wakes.”

“You will NOT blame her for something the moon did.” But the Priestess’s gaze was not on Arthur. It was fixed on me. Terrified. Awed. And something else— something like reverence. “Tyla,” she said slowly, voice trembling despite her authority, “you are not simply the new bearer.” She lifted one hand toward the shattered sky. “You are the fracture itself.” Arthur’s arm tightened around me. Reynold flinched. The Court lowered their weapons. And the moon— the celestial body that ruled wolves, fate, tides, magic—

8% Match. Beneath the number, old images of hand-written scrolls began to load onto the screen. The drawings showed ancient women standing under a full moon, their hands glowing with the exact same silver-violet lightning patterns that were currently etched into the skin of my arms. They weren't called 'Anchors' in the old texts. They were called the Lunar Priests—the original caretakers who held the keys to the wolves' primal energy before the Shadow Council ever existed.

A bitter, broken chuckle escaped my throat, tasting like ash. "Is this why my life has been hell? All the nights I cried myself to sleep, wondering what I had done to deserve such cruelty? All the times I prayed for mercy that never came?" The Priestess stopped near the Oracle and turned back. "The Moon Goddess is not our creator but our guardian. When a guardian is upset, nothing can help you. Your parent, a Moon Servant, was not supposed to have a child." Levante looked confused. "What are you trying to say? Moon Servants’ descendants… are they not their children?"